


The Most Precious Gem of the Sands

by Anonymous



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, How Do I Tag, Hurt, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Kalim is babey, M/M, OOC, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, The Author Regrets Everything, because Jamil is literally his servant, but hes also rich and stupid, i need to stop ranting in tags, idk if i'll do comfort, like deadass okay hes raised to serve, well most likely ooc cause im in this fandom through yt translation and wiki, whether or not kalim sees it that way, which hurts Jamil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-27 21:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30129015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The very first time they are introduced, Kalim notices Jamil’s beauty and is awed by it. In front of both their parents and the rest of the people milling around, his heart starts to race and has him thoughtlessly blurting out a marriage proposal that he wouldn’t take back even today. Jamil, at their first meeting, was embarrassed in the face of the unthinking flattery Kalim had doled out. He was embarrassed because in front of every other servant and his own family, this boy had announced that he desired Jamil and everyone knew that what an Al-Asim wanted, they got.ORKalim doesn't think there is any other word for what he and Jamil share except love. Jamil can think of quite a few.
Relationships: Jamil Viper/Other(s), Kalim Al-Asim & Jamil Viper, Kalim Al-Asim/Jamil Viper
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19
Collections: Anonymous





	1. and even when youre not my baby, youre still my only deity

**Author's Note:**

> this is a two parter idk if i'll do more. this chapter is for kalim's perspective, which goes further in the timeline than jamils because thats just how it happened. there is not explicit smut in this chapter because kalim is very much romanticizing this relationship. the next chapter, jamil's perspective which is longer but ends at an earlier point of time, is uh,,,less romantic. i'll try to get it up by tomorrow because im impatient lmao. 
> 
> enjoy.

The very first time they are introduced, Kalim notices Jamil’s beauty and is awed by it. In front of both their parents and the rest of the people milling around, his heart starts to race and has him thoughtlessly blurting out a marriage proposal that he wouldn’t take back even today. But as they grew he noticed the way the those baubles in Jamil’s hair, the glinting choker, the bangles and the armband all add to that natural beauty. And the piercings, of course.

They’re old enough to have been learning about their bodies when they kiss. It’s wetter than he’d thought it would be, but Jamil is warm and soft under his lips. Licking messily into Jamil’s mouth, he discovers Jamil’s tongue piercing. He can’t get enough of the cool contrast from Jamil’s warm tongue, the muffled noises Jamil makes that make his lips buzz, and both of them end up with swollen lips and flushed faces.

The stud amplifies the experience, but is plain, and Jamil is anything but, so the next day Kalim gives him a better one. It’s one that shines like Jamil does and Kalim can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips every time he sees it peek out when Jamil speaks. 

He thinks, even if it began with their meeting, discovering the tongue piercing is when this really started. By this, of course, Kalim is referring to the want—need—to see Jamil decorated as he should be. Then it gets better. Because, well, if the next piercing he discovers is by walking in on Jamil because he wants to spend as much time with him as possible before Jamil goes of to Night Raven College it’s not his fault for getting eager after seeing bars through his nipples, it’s just a happy little accident. 

It is, as it seems, decidedly not an accident when Kalim quietly locks the door behind him and innocently asks to see the piercings closer. Why, how could Jamil refuse the sweet, curious eyes of his master that couldn’t be moved from his chest? After all, Kalim doesn’t know not to touch and rub and _lick_ —oh. 

Well, if it ends with a mess in both their pants with Jamil squirming and batting away Kalim’s greedy hands that roam across his sensitive chest, it’s just a happy little accident. It’s just the way these things are. However, the bars are plain and Jamil is anything but, so Kalim gives him better ones. Ones that sparkle brightly with jewels on the ends that are as lovely as Jamil. And if Kalim smiles when Jamil bows low and can’t help but make him stay close, well, that’s nothing out of the ordinary.

Neither is the way, barely a day later, Kalim eagerly comes into Jamil’s room at night. He smiles as he sets Jamil in his lap, mouthing at the thin material covering his chest. But the way Jamil sinks to his knees and looks up through long lashes, tugging on Kalim’s pants is new. So is the way he sets Kalim’s hand on his head, mouth in a perfect ‘O’ as he bobs up and down.

The stub on his tongue scrapes against the underside, and Kalim can’t help thrusting into the back of Jamil’s throat. But Jamil says it’s okay with watery eyes and reddened, swollen lips, and Kalim thinks he looks so beautiful. He smiles at the image Jamil paints, beautiful even in such a state of disarray. How could anyone blame him for going on? 

How could anyway blame him for wanting more? Especially when he loves the feel of Jamil’s weight pressed against him, coming down from their excitement to sit in each other’s company. Loves the way Jamil’s face looks so soft under the sun’s light as he reads to Kalim. Loves the sound of Jamil’s humming as he makes a snack for them despite the way Kalim’s father’s exasperated cooks tells them not to ruin their appetite so close to dinner.

Loves Jamil. 

And they keep fooling around, sure. They sneak around in shadows and steal pleasures when no one is around. Kalim presses Jamil against walls, onto his knees, lets hands and mouth roam. Still, Kalim can’t help wanting all of Jamil. So he calls Jamil into his room only a few days before they’re to be separated, and presents him with the most lovely decorations he could find and Jamil smiles so widely it looks like it hurts. 

When he comes back out of Kalim’s private bathroom the setting sun casts its colors over Jamil. His dark hair is made into spun gold, skin glowing amber, eyes a shining silver. It reveals every piece of jewelery neatly pinned in his hair, wrapped around his neck and twining down his arms, glinting on his chest, hanging on his thighs, shining on his ankles and feet. It caresses him like a lover, jealously wrapping him in its colors. 

He is so gorgeous Kalim can’t help but pull him into his lap. He looks up at this beautiful boy, who must be some sort of deity, and feels his heart thump in a thundering hymn. Worship lies on the tip of his tongue and he cannot help as he murmurs into the crook of this young god’s neck to stay. He means it in a way he cannot describe, even though he would never want to hold Jamil back from such an incredible opportunity. Still, can Kalim be blamed from selfishly wanting to keep Jamil close? Of course not. But even if it was a request they know the answer to, Jamil shakes his head fondly and presses a distracting kiss to the underside of Kalim’s jaw. 

It is all soon forgotten anyway, with heated kisses and whispers of praise. The slight jangle of jewelery is drowned out by the creak of an expensive bed and smothered yelps that turn quickly to pleasure filled moans. The hooded eyes and flushed cheeks and kiss swollen mouth that lets out such cute noises puts Kalim under a trace, he can’t help but place a quick confession into their joined lips. Even if Jamil doesn’t hear him, he knows that Jamil must know everything he’s done has been a loud declaration of his affection. And all of his advances have been accepted and returned. 

As they are joined together, Kalim thinks that this must be love. And if this is not love then Kalim would choose it anyway as Jamil has always, will always, be his only choice. Even for all his excitement over fairy tales, the only true love’s kiss he needs is from Jamil’s sweet, pliant lips.

And in his enchantment, he really can’t be blamed for any wonderfully impulsive ideas that come to him. After all, what better idea than one that would have him not separated with this vision of beauty laying, wonderfully dazed, beside him. What better way to stay beside Jamil than to follow him to Night Raven College? It is too much of an opportunity for Jamil to miss and surely there is no place that could not be swayed by a declaration of the sweetest, truest love—and money. 

The idea doesn’t leave his head, even as, despite his protests, Jamil slips from his bed with the excuse that he couldn’t bear to sleep with so many baubles tangled in his hair. But Kalim understands in his disappointment. He lets Jamil go with a gentle goodnight kiss that leaves Jamil flushed so prettily, even with all they’ve done, and Kalim steadfast in his plan to follow Jamil to Night Raven.

Tomorrow he will go appeal to his father, how he needs Jamil by his side and how good an idea it would be for him to attend a prestigious school like Night Raven. But that is for tomorrow. So Kalim finally drifts to sleep, a satisfied smile on his face and the phantom weight of Jamil on the other side of his bed. After so much time spent together and a night of lovemaking, how could Jamil not be delighted by the surprise Kalim has planned?

And he is! Kalim grins from ear to ear as he arrives, albeit a few months late, to be at Jamil’s side. He has made Jamil speechless in joy as he appears before the dorm. It is even better than he could have imagined! Jamil gives a smile, downplayed in front of the others, before going to prepare a magnificent feast for his triumphant arrival. 

Sitting to his right at the table and pouring his drink, Jamil’s hands shake in excitement at their being reunited. That night he celebrates and laughs with his new friends, delighted at how they accept him. Beneath the table, he subtly takes Jamil’s hand in his and think they fit together as a puzzle of two pieces do. His chest swells with love, and he cannot help how his eyes follow Jamil as if he were a mirage about to disappear.

But the feeling is quickly solved as Kalim boxes Jamil beneath him, hidden in their bedroom and laying on their bed. He peppers kisses against Jamil’s body and smiles at the sight of the studs he’d gifted Jamil still being worn. There is no sweeter joy to be found as he softly presses himself into Jamil again—making them one again.

He says this aloud, after they are cleaned and done, pressing his lips to Jamil’s in a short kiss. And Jamil, so loyal and mature, hides his face away even though Kalim can see the way the tips of his ears turn red. 

Fondly, he slings his arm across Jamil’s waist, letting Jamil shift his hair out of the way, before pressing close and brushing a light kiss on his bare shoulder. So maybe their story isn’t a fairy tale full of adventure or sleeping spells or awesome battles, but Kalim thinks there would no happier ending to a story as long as he has Jamil beside him. 

After all, what else would they need but each other?

A lot, as it turns out. 

For their whole lives, Kalim has had Jamil. He has loved and thought he was loved in returned. But then their second year at Night Raven comes. Everything is revealed. The truth is that Jamil resents him. And he knows this because their second year, Jamil hurts and rages and overblots. Jamil _hates_ him. Jamil, smart and beautiful and so incredible, has never wanted him back. 

So Kalim lets Jamil go. And he separates their beds. And he stops the kisses, the touches, the immediate instinct to go to Jamil for everything. It makes the summer awkward because Jamil insists on being by his side as if nothing had happened. 

Or, at least, that’s what Kalim thinks until it turns out something has happened. Until he finds Jamil pressed up against a wall in the servants’ stairs, legs wrapped around another man’s waist, and panting into another man’s mouth. And the other is very much a man—tall, muscular, broad with a shadow of facial hair. Someone who is a total opposite of him. 

A pitiful sound echos in the hidden hall, and when they both turn to look at him, he realizes it was him. If movies have taught him anything, it is in a situation like this...you run. So he does. His heart is in his throat as he throws himself in his room and cowers under the covers. There are tears blurring his vision as he gasps for air around his breaking heart and he berates himself for his stupidity. 

He’s not sure what he had expected, even if it wasn’t Jamil moving on. After all, he’d let Jamil go. Jamil had never felt anything for him. And he guesses that’s the problem because there’s an ache in his chest and the phantom weight of Jamil beside him from so long ago, running long fingers through his hair and humming a pretty tune. 

He thinks, yes, he really loves Jamil Viper.


	2. but every praise sounds like mockery, each confession a bruising stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cannot tell yall how many times i accidentally typed jamil as jalim and kalim and kamil.  
> anyways, i was thinking of making it a long, tedious journey to 'as happy as it can be' relationship but i kinda like how sad and unhappy both of them are because i guess im just Like That, definitely not because writing is troublesome and i can't believe i even got two chapters done. (plus when i tried to write a third chapter i kinda just ended up being the slutty, slutty adventure of snek boi) 
> 
> enjoy.

Jamil, at their first meeting, was embarrassed in the face of the unthinking flattery Kalim had doled out. Not because it was a good thing to be proposed to by the new heir, after a few older siblings’ deaths, of the Al-Asim family. It wasn’t. He was embarrassed because in front of every other servant and his own family, this boy had announced that he desired Jamil and everyone knew that what an Al-Asim wanted, they got. 

So when Kalim gets curious about physical pleasure, he is ready. His parents make sure he is not taken and tainted by anyone else, saved only for his _master_. But they also make sure to educate him. Make sure he knows he exists to serve the needs of the heir of Al-Asim— _every_ need. 

For all his preparation, though, what he doesn’t see coming is how _good_ just a kiss feels.

“Jamil,” Kalim murmurs, cradling his face with both hands as he leans closer. His breath smells of sweet coconut water and Jamil wants to throw himself from the light hold he’s been captured in. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” 

He trembles at the way Kalim looks at him, eager and curious and wanting. There is no one who has looked at him like that before, no one who would dare to when he has been marked for years by those eyes.

His voice is barely louder than a whisper, yet in the emptied library it’s a shout, “No.” 

At that, his master lights up and presses chapped lips to his own soft ones.

He's always needed to be prepared. And yet he is so very unprepared as his master licks into his mouth, sounds he had practiced forcing himself to do pulled from him. Each humiliating whimper was something his master had truly taken rather than been given.

Neither does he foresee the interest the heir takes in his tongue piercing. Or, to his dismay, the shiny stud he is gifted that solidifies in everyone’s eyes just _what_ he is.

It gets worse because his master has no sense of privacy.

Jalim is changing, shirt tugged over his head and piercings on display. It takes all he has not to twitch at the sound of the lock. He wants to scream. But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. Instead he lets his master explore his chest with warm hands and an even warmer mouth. Lets his master tug him into his lap and mark up the body that belongs to Kalim as long as he wants it. 

The way only his sharp keens and the wet sounds of his chest being sucked on fills the room is shamefully lewd, so he quickly grinds into his master like he’d been taught to. It earns him teeth marks on his collarbone and a choked grunt. So he presses even closer, arching into Kalim’s touches and rolling his hips. 

“Ngh, Jamil-” Kalim breaks off into a throaty groan and bucks up, rutting against Jamil’s ass. Any other thoughts are lost as Jamil is rolled onto his back, gasping as Kalim rubs his crotch against his. They both come embarrassingly fast, making a mess in their pants. 

He wants to hit Kalim the next day when Kalim thinks he’s being discreet, sliding a small box into Jamil’s hands and grinning with a wink. Then he wants to hide in humiliation as he lets himself bow lower than usual so Kalim can see his gift as a glinting contrast to Jamil’s dark skin.

He would think that Kalim is mocking him if not for the fact that he knows the heir has an equivalent amount of brain cells to a rock.

When Kalim loudly comes into his room with all the sneakiness of a toddler in a toy store, Jamil thinks maybe death would be the best option—for him or for Kalim, who knows. But he does know what Kalim is going to want.

For all the genuine niceness he has, Kalim is greedy, and after Kalim mouths at his still sensitive nubs, he decides to hurry things along. So he slips to his knees, Kalim pushing his pants down eagerly. Of course he would, Jamil is usually right, after all. 

He looks through his lashes as he gives the tip kittenish licks and guides Kalim’s hand to his head so he isn’t surprised if Kalim gets too enthusiastic. Then he braces himself to getting around to actually putting it in his mouth.

Recalling lectures that were really stories from other servants, he suckles the tip and wishes he could bite down. But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. Instead he’s careful of his teeth and breathes through his nose, tentatively running his tongue around the heavy weight in his mouth.

Tears spring to his eyes as he’s pushed down roughly and Kalim’s dick hits the back of his throat. He coughs and gasps as he rears back in surprise, trying to breath normally again. 

“I’m sorry! Are you alright? I’m so sorry!” Kalim yelps like he’s the one who just got impaled on some dick’s dick. But Jamil can’t say that. So with teary eyes and spit shined lips, he assures his master and goes back to his job.

This time he’s prepared as Kalim gently guides him up and down, opening his throat up and letting himself be used. Even as the thrusts get rougher, that damnable hand in his hair remains gently tangled in place because all it takes for him to obey is the slightest pressure.

Kalim’s breath comes in sharp pants, and Jamil saw how dark those wide eyes got at the shameful picture he probably made after choking on Kalim’s dick, so he does what he's been taught to: pleases his master to the best of his abilities. Pushing back his disgust he lets drool dribble down his chin as he moans and lets fresh tears spring up every time Kalim’s tip brushes the back of his throat. 

The sudden gush of sticky cum as he’s held, nose to the white patch of hair at the base of Kalim’s dick, makes him gurgle. Spit and cum drip out of his mouth as he does his best to swallow. He thinks he understands the reason the people he’d talked to kept kleenex handy when blowing someone as the wave of salty bitterness fills his mouth. Through his tear blurred sight he sees Kalim smile contentedly, and wants to bite down even more than before. 

He pulls off with an obscene slurp before he can, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. Kalim clears his throat, squirming and flushed as he shakily tucks himself back into his pants, gesturing down at Jamil, “Did you, ah, also?” 

At the crude question Jamil feels his face heat. Why couldn’t Kalim be like any other master and leave after the job was done? Jamil nods anyway though, looking away so Kalim can’t see the disgust on his face. He didn’t even get aroused from it. Whatever hardness he’d gotten from grinding went down when he did. 

Thankfully, Kalim leaves and Jamil is left to sulk over the increasingly noticeable soreness in his jaw. He’s definitely going to have to get used to that, as well as the pain in his knees. After all, Kalim is greedy—pushing Jamil down in not so hidden shadows in staircases, stealing bold kisses outside while crouching under windows, not so subtly reserving the library to pull Jamil into his lap. There’s one time Jamil receives the worst (only) blowjob turned mutual handjob of his life.

But then comes the time, only days before Jamil is to leave for the only freedom he’ll have, that he is called to Kalim’s room. He’s presented with jewelery for all parts of his body and he grits his teeth so hard as he smiles, he thinks he might have cracked a tooth.

In the bathroom he strips himself, folding his clothes neatly, before redressing in the decorations. They chill his skin, and his legs—freshly shaved in accordance to the advice he’d been given—erupt in goosebumps. Still, looking in the mirror, he flushes so hard he can see splotches of red spreading over his face.

The way he looks is truly fitting of the personal whore he’s been told to be, even if it isn’t his official title. But, he tilts his head and listens to the twinkling sounds the ornaments in his hair make, he supposes like this he looks almost, well, desirable. Of course, that’s the point. At the reminder of what’s to come his nose scrunches and ruins the picture in the mirror. 

Well, he takes a deep breath, he will be free after a few more days. Though he may have chosen silks over the slowly warming jewels, a bit of indulgence pretending that this is for his pleasure too couldn’t hurt. And Kalim, although detestable in his ignorant greed, wasn’t the worst lover.

So Jamil steps out of the bathroom, lets Kalim gawk while definitely not taking his own fill of the surprising tone of his master’s upper body, and settles into Kalim’s lap. But those eyes, bloody ruby and glowing as the sun fades, stay intently focused on his face. Instead of leaning in for a kiss, Kalim bows his head and breathes shakily into Jamil’s skin, “ _Stay_.”

Jamil takes it all back. Kalim really is the worst. Hate bubbles up and he wants to hit Kalim. Even the head of Al-Asim, even his parents who taught him to submit, knew what a great chance it was for him to be invited to Night Raven College.

But, he takes a deep breath, he pushes it into the not so little box where he puts his unpleasant emotions, pushes away the frustration of only ever being able to picture Kalim when he wants pleasure, pushes away the ache in his chest for freedom, and distracts Kalim with a nip on the jaw. 

He’s going to enjoy this, Kalim be damned, because tonight this is for him.

So he grinds down, sighing into Kalim’s mouth at the feeling of his bare skin on soft clothes. He shudders at the sensation of Kalim’s tongue swirling around his pebbling nipples, arching and griping white hair too hard. He whimpers as Kalim’s hands slip down to grope his ass, fingertips brushing across his entrance. 

With an embarrassed squeak, he’s lifted and tossed onto his back. Around him the jewels knock together, sparkling in the colors given by the dying sun. His attention is quickly grabbed as Kalim cradles his ankle, trailing messy kisses up his leg, nipping and sucking at the inside of his thighs. A whine builds in his throat when Kalim pulls away to lean over him for a bottle of oil, but is cut off as an insistent tongue enters his mouth. 

Kalim mutters something into their connected lips, too quiet to be heard over a slicked finger sliding in too quick that makes Jamil arch and squeeze around him. There’s a second of adjustment before Kalim moves his finger, which becomes two, which becomes three. In and out, Kalim thrusts his fingers, curling and spreading and making Jamil squirm. Tears form in his eyes as Kalim abuses his nipples and brushes over his prostate without fully pressing on it. 

“Are you ready?” Kalim asks, fingers pulling fully out and Jamil bites his tongue as he clenches around nothing. It takes a second before Jamil nods, resting his leg around Kalim’s hip. The blunt head at his entrance is intimidating, for all his desperate lust, and Kalim hisses as Jamil tightens and flutters as he pushes in.

They pause, Kalim shaking as he takes in the sight of Jamil turned to jelly under his attentions. He bows his head and intertwines their fingers, lips brushing the shell of Jami's ear as he murmurs so sincerely, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Jamil can’t help the shudder that goes through him. Saying such stupid, cheesy things really is so like Kalim. It feels too much like mockery in its guilelessness, Kalim’s eyes looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world. He hates the way Kalim waits for him to get adjusted to the way Kalim fits inside him. The way it's as though he is someone to love rather than use.

So he shifts his hips, pulling Kalim down for a kiss so those honest eyes are hidden, and whispers, “Move.”

And Kalim does.

Jamil cries out, nails digging into Kalim’s shoulders briefly before Kalim tongues at his collarbone and tells him it’s alright. He wishes that he could say he’s in full control, but as the mattress squeaks along with the lewd, slick sounds of Kalim thrusting into him fill the room, he lets himself go.

He lets his mind focus on the pleasure, lets himself enjoy the way Kalim lavishes him in open mouthed kisses and obeys Jamil when he urges _faster, harder_. 

“You’re so perfect like this,” Kalim tells him to the sounds of their bodies sliding together. The drag of Kalim’s cock is making his nerves unravel and sing, his nails dig in to Kalim’s back and create raw, jagged lines. “Feel so good. Mm, I’m close, you-” Kalim moves one hand from Jamil’s hip to replace his hand on his leaking cock, “-you’re so good for me, Jamil. Perfect, perfect, _perfect._ ”

All his babble is white noise is Jamil’s ears, the pleasure bursts forward as Kalim hits his sweet spot and twists his wrist. He distantly feels Kalim’s grip on his hips turn bruising, the overstimulation as he pounds in to a messy rhythm, the warmth filling him up until he feels it drip from his hole even with Kalim's softened dick still inside.

Kalim’s weight is heavy and hot, sweat matting their hair as he presses their foreheads together for a lazy kiss that ends with a line of drool connecting them. Kalim grins tiredly as he wipes it away, taking in the debauched picture Jamil is sure he makes.

The cool night air makes him uncomfortably aware of Kalim’s seed inside of him, sticky as it leaks out slowly. He sighs and wishes he could stay in the comfortable, over sized bed, but he knows he needs to clean up.

Kalim pouts when Jamil sits up with a wince that makes his hand come to Jamil’s back, asking, “Where are you going?” 

“Clean up, I don’t think I can sleep with so many things tangled in my hair,” Jamil responds with a tired, practiced smile. He definitely could sleep, the question is whether he could resist smothering Kalim with one of many pillows if they spend any more time together. 

Quickly, he wipes himself down in the bathroom and changes, careful of the jewelry as he sets it in the layered box. He doesn't hesitate as he grumbles to himself, soaking a clean soft rag to wipe Kalim with because gods know that boy wouldn’t think to do it himself.

With as much efficiency without lingering he can manage, he wipes the sweat from his half-asleep master, but as he turns to leave, he’s caught by his wrist. 

“These are yours,” Kalim tells him, pressing the box full of jewels that he’d set on the bedside table back into his hands, “They’re specifically for you. I had them made with you in mind, Jamil, so they’re yours.” 

Jamil swallows the resentment in his throat because how can Kalim not know that all these gifts are a reminder of what he is and his use? How can Kalim be so cruelly ignorant? But he even with each curse on the tip of his tongue, what rolls out is a polite, “Thank you.” 

“Good night,” Kalim presses a sweet kiss to his lips, chaste and innocent, that makes his face burn. Then he leaves.

He goes back to his room and to his surprise there are tears in his eyes. He’s sure, despite the limp, he’s not hurt. But something in his chest aches and even as he lays down for sleep his lips still tingle. 

He thinks, yes, he really hates Kalim Al-Asim.


End file.
